


The One Who Drove Us All to Keep Fighting

by AriadneBeckett (Jet44)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Healing, British Men of Letters (Supernatural) Being Assholes, Brotherly Affection, Canon Compliant, Caring Castiel (Supernatural), Caring Dean Winchester, Comfort, During Canon, Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugs, Missing Scene, One Shot, POV Sam Winchester, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19801294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jet44/pseuds/AriadneBeckett
Summary: Sam needed fixing, comfort, and a lot of hugs and answers after his rescue from the Men of Letters. We weren't shown any of it. So here's what we missed. Sam has an important message for Dean, too.





	The One Who Drove Us All to Keep Fighting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sherylyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherylyn/gifts).



_I just dropped by for some tea and a beating._

Sam was in so much pain the _existence of the world_ hurt, but he was also grinning, because that was such a Dean thing to say, and Dean was alive and helping hold him upright. There was so much relief and joy in having him there that Sam's dazed brain kept replaying that line over and over and trying not to giggle.

Yeah, he was giddy and in shock, so what?

Sam was shaking when Cas touched his forehead, igniting a glowing wash of healing force that rippled though his body. And when the pain vanished, he fell, cascading to the ground like spilled water, but Dean had him and poured him gently. He'd been bracing his muscles so tight just to stand, and to not scream from balancing himself on his foot while standing on a leg he'd been shot in, that having it all gone was a shock to the system.

Cas rested a hand on his shoulder, and a moment later ventured a pat and an exploring touch on the back of his head. A worried angel. How was that so absurdly touching?

Sam closed his eyes, embracing the solidity of the ground. "It's okay."

He was dizzy, but the relief was what had him shivering formless on the ground. In what felt like mere minutes, he'd gone from being tortured in a basement with his brother dead and God dying to lying here in warm sunlight surrounded by everyone he cared about. It was like the polar opposite of being hit with a baseball bat, leaving him stunned and unable to move with release and joy.

Was this heaven, or something else entirely? Another spell? It felt and smelled and sounded real. Spellwork and hallucinations couldn't create the fine details like the smell of crushed grass and dust against his face, or the state of momentary suspended animation the nervous system went through when angel healing fixed a serious injury, or the peace that was created when one was surrounded by people who cared kneeling next to him and touching him.

"Thank you, Cas," said Sam. This was real, and the worried angel with his hand on his shoulder had just cured him of sickening damage. He wanted to hug the guy. He wanted to hug Dean. He wanted to hug everyone, but he couldn't move.

"Are you okay?" asked Cas.

"I will be," said Sam. Dean was still holding him, one hand on his other shoulder, one on the side of his ribs, warm and gentle and steady. Unlike Cas, he seemed to get why Sam was so dazed. He just needed a minute, and Dean knew to give him that.

They just sat with him as a warm breeze lofted through his hair and across his skin while his breathing and the throbbing of the universe settled down. Birds chirped nearby, and somewhere in the distance, a train whistle sounded. It was all incredibly normal, including the ant that discovered his chin and scurried up it.

He sat up, and Dean put his arm around Sam's back and tucked him protectively against his side. Sam leaned into it, and they shared this little oasis of joy and relief while their worlds clicked back together.

From "The world is ending" to "We might make it, but surprise, your brother is going to die by his own hand in less than an hour and he's never coming back this time" to, "Everything's okay and Dean's alive, and oh, by the way, here's your mom who died when you were a baby?"

Talk about whiplash.

Dean's grip grew tight enough to hurt, almost frantic even though his breathing was calm. Sam twisted his head around to look and reassure him, and saw the split skin and puffy bruises swelling rapidly.

"Cas, could you? She really went at him. If his jaw and cheek aren't fractured in a dozen places, it's a miracle."

Cas looked horrified that he hadn't tended to Dean, and touched his forehead, healing him. Sam, clutched tight against Dean's side, felt him go through that same odd, resetting blip.

"Cliff Notes," said Sam. "How is Dean alive? How is my mom alive? Is this some 'gonna get snatched away, spell goes bad if they don't leave thing?"

"Amara could tell I was there to kill her," said Dean. "But she didn't fight. We just talked, and she listened. She's - The Darkness just wants her brother to love her. Chuck showed, and she healed him, and Chuck de-fused me, and they decided to go away to spend time together. She said I'd given her what she needed most, so she was going to give me what I needed most. Then they vanished, and not long after that Mary starts kicking my ass."

"So - " Sam shook his head to clear it, but the facts seemed to stay the same. "Chuck is alive, Dean is alive, Amara is alive, and Mom's back from the dead for real? Are you kidding me? We actually saved the world and walked away from it for once?"

Dean grinned. "Well, you kinda limped away, but yeah."

Sam punched him in the arm, and Dean hugged him. More than hugged, grabbed him and dragged him into his arms and held on tight.

"I spend one lousy day getting tortured in a basement….. and you go an' save the world without me?" complained Sam, closing his eyes to savor Dean's arms around his chest.

He'd lost Dean so many times, he'd have thought he'd be used to it by now. But like Gabriel had discovered long ago, it didn't work that way. With each new trial they survived, or didn't survive, Dean became a more vital part of his soul. There was exactly one other human on the planet who got what it was to be a Winchester, and that was Dean.

And then there was Mary….

Sam shivered. Dean still drank away the trauma of the night she died. Sam had seen the same thing happen to Jessica. Mary was a Winchester, their mother, and to him, a complete stranger.

_I wish she hadn't come back._

The intrusive thought betrayed him.

Burning flesh. Screams. Mary. Jessica. Ellen. Jo. Charlie. Madison.

Mary had been safe in heaven, and now they were going to love her, and it was going to hurt like hell, because she was a Winchester. Their mother shouldn't have to live this life, or die it.

Dean adopted new people like some people adopted puppies. He held them at bay for just long enough to see if they could take who he was and what he did, and whether they planned to kill him. If they could take it, he adored them. He was going to love Mary so much, Sam ached for him already.

Sam loved her in concept, and wanted to hug her in greeting and talk to her for hours and get to know her for real. But this was going to hurt, all of them, one way or another, and he was sick of the pain and the loss. It was too much already, with just him and Dean and Cas. There was plenty of love in all their hearts, but not a lot more capacity for pain.

"Not without you, Sam," said Castiel, his voice grave. He placed his hand flat against Sam's back between his shoulders when Dean released the hug. It didn't feel like being touched by a human. Maybe superficially, it did. But the touch of an angel was a transmitter rod for what that angel was feeling or asking, and it shot a bolt of tender respect and reverence directly through his soul.

"Because of you. Because out of all of us, including God, you were the one who wouldn't give up. You were the one who drove us all to keep fighting."

Castiel meant every word, and his touch held a love Sam had never felt before. Cas had gone from good friend and ally to family.

"What he said," said Dean.

#

Sam jerked his head towards the treeline, wordlessly asking Dean to step away from the others. Dean followed him without question.

"Dean - I saw the way you looked at me when I wouldn't let us give up."

"Yeah - well, you were right," admitted Dean.

"In case it's ever - in case the situation is ever reversed and you need some reason to carry on…."

 _In case we lose Mary and you lose me and it's about to just break you_ …. No, that couldn't be said out loud. If it ever came to it, Dean would remember these words anyway.

"Less than an hour ago, I was in alone, in misery, close to dying, and death didn't feel like a - a bad thing," said Sam. "I had a shot at escape and failed. My brother was dead, God himself was probably dead. We're talkin' darkest hours of my life, here. Then you showed up snarking about tea and beatings, and now we're here with our family not only whole, it's bigger than it's been in years."

Dean looked deeply moved, and still had that little bereft look that said he was hurting for Sam. Sam had to resist the urge to hug him some more, because damn, it was good to see that face again. Dean was a walking, snarking bundle of issues and bad decisions and pure nobility, and nobody could match the love in his eyes.

"When we do go - I - I hate to say this, but it's gotta be together, Sammy. I can't -"

"I can't either," said Sam gently. "I didn't want to die because I was being tortured. I can take that, especially when it's distracting me from how much it hurts that you're dead. But I would rather just join you, if you're gonna be gone for good. Until that day comes, have faith. This is about the most dramatic reversal of fortunes I can imagine, and it was worth holding on for."

"Faith in who?" asked Dean, his voice taking on a tinge of bitterness. "God said he was leaving, going off to bond with his sister, and I asked him what about this world? You know what he said, Sam?"

"What? That as long as there's pie, there's hope?"

"He said it has us," said Dean. " _Us_. God just left the friggin world in the hands of two guys squatting in a bunker living off stolen credit cards and beer. Who am I supposed to have faith in?"

"In whatever it is that keeps pulling us through these things," said Sam. "In us, because if God has that much faith in us, maybe we should too."

Dean shrugged. "Okay," he said simply.

Then he hugged Sam.

Really hugged him, and held on. "You really okay? That was _horrific_."

The tense knot in Sam's heart unwound. "You mean, 'that was Tuesday for a Winchester?'" he answered, ruefully reminding himself just how awful Tuesdays could be. But then he felt Dean grin.

"Dude. They really messed with your head. It's Thursday. Tuesdays we save the world, Wednesdays we get tortured for it, Thursdays are rescues and bring-your-resurrected-parents-to-work day."

Sam burst out laughing, and shoved Dean, hard. Dean went reeling back and tackled Sam, sending him staggering, and all was right with the world for at least five minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated if you enjoyed this :D


End file.
